


Wybór

by carefulwiththatwolfwhistle (ashinan)



Series: Granica Wytrzymałości [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Gen, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-02
Updated: 2013-08-02
Packaged: 2017-12-22 05:22:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/909403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashinan/pseuds/carefulwiththatwolfwhistle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles finally snaps, and the pack, along with Derek, have to make a choice.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wybór

**Author's Note:**

> Companion piece to [Nawiedzony](http://archiveofourown.org/works/905617). Spoilers for the latest episode. Just my take on what I'd love to see happen in the next episode. This isn't pre-slash or anything, it's just Stiles at the end of his rope.

It’s like an undercurrent to his skin, fingers twitching and shoulders rolling, and Stiles can barely keep his eyes focused on the pack as they mill about the classroom. No one is  _talking_. No one is taking  _action_. Stiles squeezes his hands together, knuckles cracking. His foot jumps against the linoleum. If Erica were still here, she would come with him, be the Catwoman to his Batman. If Boyd were still here, he would push Derek to make a decision, not to cower in the school like a child.

But they’re dead and his dad is kidnapped and Stiles wants to burn down the fucking world to find him. Scott’s presence beside him, fingers curled loose around his wrist, is the  _only_  thing keeping him from running out, taking the fight right to Ms Blake’s door and beating her senseless with whatever he can grab. He doesn’t care that she has magic. He doesn’t care that she’s probably expecting this of them. He doesn’t care because she has his dad and it’s Stiles’ fault and he  _will not lose another parent, dammit._

Stiles wants to maim something, tear it apart and watch it bleed. He wants to compile together some molotov cocktails and burn every goddamn alpha and darach into nothing. He wants to find his dad.

“Will someone please come up with a fucking plan?” he snaps, unable to stand the silence. Scott jumps, startled by his words. Stiles grits his teeth so hard his jaw aches. “I mean seriously, can we stop walking back and forth and actually  _do_  something?”

“What do you expect us to do, Stiles?” Derek asks, and he sounds so tired, so world weary and broken. But Stiles can’t think about that right now. His dad is out there, with some maniac English teacher turned dark druid, and Derek fucking Hale is his last option. “We don’t even know if that’s why she took him. We need to think about this.”

The incredulousness of that statement finally breaks him. He leans forward, hands braced on his knees, and coughs out a laugh. Another one. Another, another, another, until he’s practically howling with hysterics. He can hear Scott shift beside him. He can feel Derek staring. He doesn’t know how long it goes on for, but when he’s finally able to pull himself back up, he feels refreshed and clear headed.  He wipes the tears from the corners of his eyes with his palms and bares his teeth at Derek.

“Really. We need to think about this. Are you kidding me, Derek?” The words have been building up in his head, pressure, pressure, waiting to release. “You’ve gone into every situation with your head so far up your ass, and  _paid for it_ , that I can’t even believe you’re still alive! And now, now when I’m the one asking for your help, for backup, for fucking  _something_ , you tell me to wait.

“Well,” Stiles hadn’t realized he was moving until he’s right in Derek’s face, hands shaking with violence and eyes blazing with unwept tears, “I’m not going to lose the only family I have left because  _Derek Hale_  can’t put aside his own issues for one damn day and  _help me_.”

Derek flinches, imperceptibly, but Stiles doesn’t care. It hits him right then. He doesn’t care. He’s spent the last six months of his life covering for this asshole, keeping his secret and helping when he can. Sure, Scott needs him and Stiles will never stop protecting him, but what is Derek to him? A fractured man, haunted and hurt and infringing on every aspect of Stiles’ life.

“You can’t –”

Stiles laughs, bright and vicious, cuts Derek off at the knees because he’s done. He’s completely, irreversibly, done. “Are you telling me what to do now? When your psychotic, mass murdering girlfriend has got my dad somewhere, tied up where he’ll be ritually sacrificed? Fuck you. Fuck you and everything you’ve done since you came back here. I’ll find my dad on my own.”

“Stiles –”

“No! I’m done with you. I’m done with this entire fiasco. I tried telling him, you know? I tried explaining to my dad what was going on because I realized my keeping him in the dark  _wasn’t fucking helping_. He was groping around for answers and I realized that sooner or later he was going to get hurt. Well, guess what happened?!”

Stiles clenches his fists, fighting with himself not to just punch Derek in the jaw, in the stomach, in the face, as hard as he can. He wants to hit  _something_. “So, if you’re going to go all ‘We need to wait’ or ‘We need to see’ or, for God’s sake, ‘Maybe Jennifer doesn’t want to sacrifice your dad’, I will find a way to make you  _hurt_. Either help me or stay out of my way. I don’t need you for this.”

The proclamation burns in the air and Stiles doesn’t want to take it back, his mind throwing all thoughts of Derek on the back burner and re-sorting his priorities. He needs a plan but it can form while he works. There are only so many locations Ms Blake will have taken his father. He’ll need Allison’s map and knowledge; he’ll need Deaton’s storages and help. He will get his father back and he’ll burn Ms Blake into ash.

He ignores the utterly devastated look Derek gives him and turns away, strides past Isaac sitting on one of the desks, Lydia and Allison huddled together over by a teacher’s desk, Scott by the door. He walks right out, doesn’t look back, fingers twitching against his thighs as he moves. He already knows who will follow.

Sure enough, he hears more than sees Scott scramble after him. Allison joins him and Lydia’s heels ring throughout the hallway. Stiles keeps moving, practically at a jog down the hallway, and when Isaac catches up with them all, he feels a sliver of sadness. He shoves it away and leaves the building, the others shadowing him and silent.

He’s panicking, can feel it waiting in his lungs, ready to reach up and strangle him. He channels the feeling into the fierce rage that seems to consume his every thought. He’ll make her pay. He’ll tear her apart and fight off her deity if he has to. His palms spark with warmth and his fingernails burn crescents into his skin. He will destroy her and every creature that dares threaten his family.

“What’s the plan?” Lydia asks once they’re in the parking lot. Stiles looks at her, catches the glisten of skin bruised by the wire. He has to breathe through the need to scream.

“She’s going to know we’re coming. We’ll need the element of surprise here,” Stiles says. “Allison, I need that map. We’ll be able to narrow down where she has my dad with it. I’m heading over to Deaton’s. I need to know how to kill a druid without incurring the wrath of whatever deity she’s sacrificing to. Scott, Isaac, I need you both to stick with Lydia. If –” he swallows, hard, ignores the burning in his eyes, “if she starts heading anywhere and can’t hear you, you’ll probably find my dad before I do.”

“Stiles –” Scott starts to say. Isaac places a hand on his arm, shaking his head. Stiles throat clicks.

“Allison, meet me at Deaton’s after you get the map. Hopefully by then I’ll have a way to kill her, and if not, well, we can improvise. Do not take her on alone. Keep your phones on and in contact.”

He turns toward his jeep, getting in almost on autopilot. His mind races, moving from idea to idea, scattering thoughts and piecing them back together. He doesn’t start the car up right away, watches absently as Allison drives away and Scott and Isaac move to get in the car with Lydia. If Lydia does find his father – he shakes his head, turning the key and sighing as Betty clunks to life.

Stiles doesn’t hear the other door open until he glances over and Derek’s buckling in beside him. “Jesus!”

“I’ll help you,” Derek says, softly. He won’t look at Stiles, stares down at his fingers until they flash with claws. “I’ll help you and I’ll stay out of your way. I’m sorry.”

The barb sits on his tongue, waiting to be used, and he swallows it down. Nodding sharply, he throws Betty into reverse and peels out of the parking lot, heading toward Deaton’s. Derek sits solemn and silent beside him, eyes flashing against the street lights. Stiles plans, grip tight and unyielding on the steering wheel.

The night scampers away from the slice of Betty’s head beams. When dawn comes, Jennifer Blake will be dead.

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on [my tumblr](http://carefulwiththatwolfwhistle.tumblr.com/post/57085863542/)!


End file.
